


oh, those warning signs

by couriersmile



Series: while everyone's lost, the battle's won [1]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 3
Genre: F/F, Gen, Lesbian Character, Nonbinary Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-06-09 16:40:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15271770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/couriersmile/pseuds/couriersmile
Summary: disconnected tales of the lone wanderer - good karma, bad choices





	oh, those warning signs

 

i

2277

Veronica Santangelo is twenty three when the Enclave hits Project Purity. She’d been sent up from the Mojave to beg for more everything, and she’s out in the courtyard when Sam Reeves is dragged in.

Everyone is watching as the scientists stagger them, all of them covered in dirt and filth and tracking in sludge, but it’s Reeves everyone is watching. They look awful. Their bright blonde hair is covered in dirt and worse, their face is completely blackened with something disgusting and it’s visibly flaking off. Compared to the crispness of the Citadel, they are visibly, shockingly out of place.

Reeve’s boots are barely touching the ground, as the ghoul drags them in, and the doctor is talking to Lyons but it’s Sam’s shout that rings through the courtyard.

“You _ coward _ !” Reeve’s shouts and there is silence where there was laughter, where there was chatter, “You bunch of _ fucking cowards _ !” They shove the ghoul, who lets them drop, heavily, to the ground. They can barely stand. “My dad is  _ dead _ and you can’t spare anybody to  _ help me _ ?”

They spit onto the ground. Veronica almost can’t breathe.

Sarah Lyons starts forward. Reeves is already walking away, the ghoul following close behind.

The gate slams shut behind them.

ii

2277

Sam isn’t crying when Butch finds them, standing over the Overseer’s body. His throat had been cut to the bone, almost decapitated. Sam’s knuckles are bloody and they are very, very white.

Butch doesn’t know what to do. He’s grown up teasing Sam, calling them names and getting into fights with them, over Amanta and just because Butch did something Sam didn’t abide by. Childish, he thinks. Stupid.

The blood is very, very real.

Sam isn’t crying.

“C’mon.” Butch says. Sam doesn’t move. “ _ C’mon _ , let’s go.  _ Let’s go _ , nosebleed, their ain’t no reason for us to be standing around.” He pulls at their arm, it doesn’t budge. They’d grown, a lot. Gotten stronger. They could probably pick him up easily now, even if they’re skinnier than a twig.

“I don’t know what to do.” Sam says. Butch stops. He doesn’t know what to do either. The Overseer is dead and the blood is puddling towards them, and it stinks like rust. “Butch, I don’t know what to do.”

“It’s awful, isn’t it.” Butch says, and he feels older than nineteen. “To not know what to do, whether you were right or wrong do it. You ain’t a saint, Sam. Nobody is.”

Sam starts to cry.

iii

2278

Charon follows Sam like he’s always done, silently and without comment. He doesn’t like Sam. He is not afforded the luxury of liking his employer, when they hold his contract and he is bid to do as they wish. He has one defense, and Sam, so far, has been the only employer to respect it.

_ “You are entitled to my services in combat.” _ Charon had said, and Sam had not said anything. The radiation alarm was blaring. Sarah Lyons was breathing hard, holding her insides in with one hand. He knew that Lyons would do it. He knew the woman would walk in the radiation, and get cooked inside and out to turn the purifier on.

Sam had not said anything. They opened their armour, shucked it onto the ground with a heavy thump. They were wearing a simple white t shirt underneath. Sam reached into their breast pocket, and pulled out Charon’s contract, wrapped in plastic.

They gave him back his contract. For him to find a new employer.

“Choose wisely.” Sam had said, bitten off, and walked into the rads soaked room.

Charon gave back his contract to Sam, when they woke up. Sam had not said anything about it. They’d known.

iv

2277

Red had been trapped in the cell for two days, and she’d been crammed under the bed. It hadn’t helped Seb, who was  _ small _ and  _ skinny _ and had been dragged out screaming. Wet, awful sounds had followed. Red hadn’t made a sound. Big Town needed her. It didn’t.

Red pushed the feeling of guilt down.

It didn’t need Seb.

Red had started screaming when Shorty was dragged out, because Big Town might not have needed him  _ but she needed him that was her best fucking friend _ , and the super mutant had only laughed.

Then there was gunfire. Mutants ran back and forth, only to fall with great big thumps and finally, somebody stepped through. They weren’t tall, not exactly. They just looked like they ought to be. Black armor, white hair that stood up on the ends.

“Hey.” They said, and they were smiling, “We’re here to get you out.”

“Please,” said Red, as the cell door creaked open, “ _ Please _ you have to get Shorty, he’s in the kitchen,  _ please _ .”

“Stay here Charon.” They said, and Red finally noticed the ghoul, but they didn’t care  _ Shorty was in the kitchen _ -

“Reeves.” Charon said, curt, but Reeves had already left.

They’d come back running, hauling Shorty over one shoulder.  _ They’d gotten Shorty _ .

v

2277

“You’re a hero,” Amata said, and Sam had gone completely still. It was worse, because Sam’s hands were still covered in blood. It was worse, because Butch was right next to them, holding Sam’s elbow. It was worse, because Sam had kissed her, and Amata was going to break their heart. “And you have to leave.”

“Please.” Sam said, voice cracking.

“I’m sorry.” Amata said. “I’m sorry, Sam.”

“Please,” Sam said again, “Please let me come back.”

Amata had remembered how her father had lunged at Sam. Amanta had tried, had tried to stop him. Sam hadn’t hesitated. Something in their face just went dead. Ten milimeter crammed under the Overseer’s jaw. Pull of the trigger.

He’d dropped. Sam had left, deeper, further into the vault. Amata had knelt down next to her father, blood soaking into the vault suit. She’d closed his eyes. Pulled her father’s pistol out of his limp hands, and followed after Sam. She’d let them out of the vault, like she’d promised. Buried her father, and cried.

She’d seen what they’d done to the new one. Throat cut all the way down to the bone.

“I’m sorry Sam.” Amata said again. “No.”

Sam left, like they always had.

Amata staid, like she’d always done.

 


End file.
